


I Follow Your Fire

by Heatherbel



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Ezra is everything, F/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Shameless Smut, Stargazing, Starvation, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heatherbel/pseuds/Heatherbel
Summary: "Well wasn’t this just creamy?It was only a Bits Bar. The thought churned through your mind. One lousy Bits Bar. Alright maybe two - or three, or six. Okay, so you’d lost count. You were just so Kevva-damned hungry. And now you were going to die."Inspired by the prompt: I would love it if you were inspired to write a little bit of Ezra for me. Perhaps I try to steal food from him, and he plans to do away with me, but perhaps he is bowled over by my beauty and wit after my helmet comes off.From: yespolkadot_kitty
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	I Follow Your Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yespolkadot_kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/gifts).



> So this is for the amazing yespolkadot_kitty who persuaded me to write this fic for her and then somehow still ended up conspiring to beta read it for me. Kitty - you’re the best-worst person I know!!! 
> 
> A huge thanks as well to the wonderful jura-moon who was an amazing cheerleader and talked me back from the edge when I was ready to give up.
> 
> This is my first ever fanfic, and of course it would have to be about Ezra ❤️

“Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a stinking channel rat.”

He backhanded you into the bunk.

Your head smacked the metal, skull rebounding off the inside of your helmet; your mouth exploding with the tang of blood and a searing, bitter kick of adrenaline.

He followed up with a kick to the gut that left you heaving, retching from the pain blooming through your middle.

Well wasn’t this just creamy?

It was only a Bits Bar. The thought churned through your mind. One lousy Bits Bar. Alright maybe two - or three, or six. Okay, so you’d lost count. You were just so Kevva-damned hungry. And now you were going to die.

You were going to die for the sake of a Bits Bar. You knew it. He knew it. The rules of the green were straightforward in their cruelty. It was only fair; you’d taken what wasn’t rightfully yours and been caught red-handed. Now you knew his retribution would be very swift, and very lethal.

It was for the best really. Better to die quick by his hand than suffer the lingering starvation, or asphyxiation that waited if you were trapped on this fucking moon much longer. He would be doing you a favour really.

“Just do it!!” you wailed, desperate to get it over with. The near shattered transmitter in your suit distorted your pleas with static.

“Do what?” His voice seethed with anger, and you shrank from him as he raised his boot again.

“Kill me! Send me back to Kevva, I know I deserve it.” You tried to gulp back a sob and failed.

Suddenly, the barrel of his thrower slammed from your chest to your neck, jamming your skull back into the air filtration system behind you. There was a hollow clang and your vision blurred with the impact. He was speaking again but the ringing in your ears drowned out the sound. He glared at you, but the solar tint on your helmet gifted him nothing but a view of his own reflection.

“I think you’ll find, _rat_ , that I don’t take kindly to being given orders. Especially not from someone in a position as _unfortunate_ as yours. You understand?” His voice sounded tinny, like it was coming from the bottom of a well, but you nodded. The movement caused a wave of nausea to roll over you and you wilted even further. You were just so damn tired, tired of _everything_.

He suddenly relaxed, as if assured of his dominion, and settled himself back on one of the bunks. While he seemed at ease, the aim of his thrower never wavered. He nodded towards you with a flick of his chin, “take off your helmet.”

You heard that clear enough.

“Wh… why?”

“You’ve sure got cheek to be questioning me, _rat_ , but if you must know, I’ve never taken a man’s life without looking him in the eye first, and I don’t mean to start today.”

You reached up slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements as you released the series of seals and gaskets around your neck.

Taking the weight of the helmet in your gloves, you eased it off, aware for the first time of the tears sticking loose strands of hair to your cheeks.

Slowly you looked up, bracing for the impact of the shot as soon as you met his eyes.

But it never came.

His eyebrows winged up at the sight of your face, horror painted across his features. You knew you had to be a terrible sight, these last stands in the green had not been kind.

“Kevva, you’re no channel rat. Look at you, you’re nothing but a little mouse.”

His eyes were dark, like cocoa, like chocolate fucking Bits Bars and you resigned yourself that they were the last thing you’d ever see.

“Please, _please_ make it quick. I can't… _I just can’t_ …” Your voice broke and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. Trying to be brave. Hoping death would come before there was too much pain.

“Now why would I want to go and do a rash thing like that?” His voice was soft now, contemplative.

You heard the hiss as his helmet depressurised.

Suddenly there were hands on your shoulders and he pulled you to his chest, your head tucked into the crook of his neck as you sobbed.

“There, there, little mouse. Now whatever will we do with you?” He stroked your back with a gentleness that stunned you, then pulled away, running his thumb over your bloodied lip with a frown. “Pleased to make your acquaintance little one. My name is Ezra.”

**************

You didn’t know what caused his astonishing change of heart and you were too afraid to ask.

That day he helped you out of your external suit, fed you four packs of Pastors Slurry and two whole Bits Bars, before letting you have a hot shower, and a sleep on a real mattress. You were skittish but he was considerate, moving slowly around the tent and speaking quietly to you in his soft drawl. You’d been so desperately lonely, your chest physically ached with joy at the companionship. It all felt like the greatest luxury in the world after what you’d been through. You were so grateful you cried yourself into a dreamless sleep and wept again when you woke up and remembered where you were.

“I don’t usually cry this much, you know,” you hiccupped.

“I’m mighty relieved to hear that, it would bode terribly for your hydration levels if you did.”

You glanced up, surprised to see the beginnings of a small smile play across the face of the man who was now both your captor and benefactor. His eyes crinkled gently and the vengeful being that had terrified you the day before seemed a million light years away.

Ezra had questions for you. How you’d come to be alone on the moon? Why you were wearing a man’s style of suit? You were hesitant to say too much, but he perched on the bunk across from you and slowly coaxed out your tale of woe.

There wasn’t much to tell: you were born thirty-three lunar years ago, orphaned half your life, you’d been a floater ever since. This sling had been the disaster to end all disasters, aurelac stolen, abandoned by your crew, left to die. Pretty standard stuff out here to be fair. Everyone knew the risks when they signed up to come to the fringe. Your filters failing, you’d managed to scrounge a suit from a crashed drop pod you’d stumbled upon. Its faulty transmitter seemed a fair concession to make for a functioning air filter. You didn’t tell him about the man’s body you’d had to remove from it first, although you were sure he’d have understood; some things you just didn’t talk about, like stealing a dead man’s shroud. You had to be able to afford to have principles, your father had always told you that. Out here survival was king, and you definitely needed the suit more than the corpse.

After a while your chrono had stopped working and you had no idea how long you’d been out there alone in the green. After the first few days, time had lost all meaning as exhaustion and hunger had eaten away at you.

You’d spotted Ezra for the first time one evening, while dusk skimmed across the undergrowth, the moon’s jade light deepening to shades of emerald. After so many days, lost, desperate, you felt half feral when you spied him. You had kept your distance, wary, too afraid to approach, until eventually hunger got the better of you.

You watched him for near a full stand, learning his movements, only creeping in to raid his supplies once you were certain he was well away at his dig site. You only took what you needed to survive, wolfing the bars down as fast as you could in the stale and mercifully clean air of his tent.

But it turned out, your master plan wasn’t quite as masterful as you’d hoped. Ezra proved quite the quartermaster and had noticed the depletion of his supplies almost immediately. After it became clear that his ‘rat’ problem wasn’t going away he’d doubled back on himself to catch you. And the rest he knew.

As he went about his tasks in the tent, Ezra chatted away amiably, filling up the cool of your silence with the warm timbre of his voice. He hadn’t come to the green alone as you had assumed, but early in the expedition his partner had met with an unfortunate accident. A slip of the wrist and time had stood still as he watched his companion’s fazer solution drop. The explosion had blown him to bits, entrails splattered across the soil. By some miracle Ezra walked away unscathed, but it had taken him days just to remove the bloodstains from his suit. Ezra was a hard man, his sharp edges honed by the reality of many years living on the fringe, but he admitted his partner’s last moments still haunted his dreams. It seemed no one, not even Ezra, left the Bakhroma Moon unscathed.

He said there was a ship scheduled to be coming for him, for them, in four stands. Two seats booked, one lying empty. For the first time in forever you felt a giddy flutter of hope in your chest.

You knew if you were to convince him to take you with him you’d need to pay him. That was the way of life here. You had to have something to trade, a deal to make, but you had nothing. Even your suit was near worthless with its cracked transmitter.

Eventually you realised that the only thing you had left to offer him… was you.

******************

You waited a few days until the swelling in your lip went down, the ugly purple welt from the kick to your stomach faded to streaks of yellow and green across your skin. You knew you weren’t what the Central worlds considered the peak of beauty, but you were a woman with all the prerequisite parts and you hoped it would be enough.

He’d been back out to the dig site. Seemingly he trusted you sufficiently to leave you alone with his possessions while you recovered from your injuries. Or maybe he figured, quite rightly, that weak and injured as you were, you wouldn’t get far even if you did run.

You bathed as best you could, wishing for the scented soaps you had left behind in Central, but you figured clean and warm and willing was better than nothing. You dried yourself, wrapped his towel around you and waited.

Ezra returned not long after, giving a cheery accounting of his day as he removed his helmet and stripped down to his compression gear. Ezra was quite striking really, with his dark looks and shock of blonde through his hair, you’d certainly warmed your bed with worse, but never like this. ‘ _You have to be able to afford to have principles_ ,’ you told yourself, repeating it in your head like a mantra. While his back was turned, you took a shaking breath, stood and let the towel fall to the floor.

“…the care required in the procurement of rhizomatic organisms is quite the trial at times…” Ezra turned and the rest of his words stuck in his throat. He made a strangled sound as he took a step forward, eyes dark, before backing up hard against the seal of the tent. He waved his hands towards your naked body.

“What… what exactly is the meaning of this little one?”

“You know exactly what the meaning is, Ezra.”

“Now there’s a point where I’d beg to differ. Care to enlighten me?”

“I need to pay you.”

“Whatever for sweetheart?” His voice was strained.

“For the food, the filters, and… most of all I need to pay you to get me off this moon.”

“I…” He was stuck for words, mouth opening and closing as his eyes raked across your form. He lunged forward and you closed your eyes, mentally steeling yourself for what was to come. Telling yourself you wanted this. To your great surprise you felt the soft cloth of the towel being wrapped back around you.

“This is a most generous offer, little mouse, a gracious gift indeed, one in which I’d be happy to indulge, but I cannot and will not take that from you.”

“But it’s all I have to pay you!” There was more than a tinge of hysteria in your tone.

“And I will not take it from you!” Ezra snapped back, his face morphing with fury, reverting in a heartbeat to the man who had beaten you that first day. You flinched away from him, a cry catching in your throat. In an instant his face fell, all signs of ferocity gone. For a second you thought you saw his bottom lip quiver as he lowered his voice, “I’m sorry if I scared you little one, Kevva knows that was not my intention. I’m hurt, hurt you believe me so mercenary you’d have to prostitute yourself for safe passage. I know we met in poor circumstances, but do you really think me such a monster that I’d abandon you to die in the green?

You had no answer. And with that Ezra didn’t speak to you for days.

But he also didn’t make you leave.

******************

Incrementally, Ezra began to speak to you again, a few words about a filter here, a question about your favourite books there. He was clearly a creature of words and you could tell that withholding them pained him.

Still an awkwardness hung between you. You wanted to apologise for your forwardness, for embarrassing both him and yourself but couldn’t find the right words. Words that seemed to come so easily to him tripped, tangled and died on your tongue. So instead you said nothing and wallowed in your shame. Part of you was stung by his rejection. You were the only woman within a thousand light-years and yet he didn’t want you. You tried not to question why it hurt so much, or why your heart twisted in your chest whenever Ezra said your name.

The days passed quickly and you began to feel steadier, more sure in your own body. His little kindnesses, a cup of coffee here, a failed but valiant attempt to fix your transmitter there, all served to bolster your battered spirit. You came out of your shell, discussed your favourite books and holos, the places you’d been. Your favourite moments were when you made him laugh; he particularly appreciated your terrible impressions of the traders at The Pug. His laugh was raspy and warm, it made your heart feel light, and you liked hearing it more than you wanted to admit.

You even tried to accompany Ezra out to the dig site to assist as much as you were able. Communication was sparse due to your transmitter but you soon learned to make yourself understood without words. After a shaky start you began to move in harmony, and occasionally you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of Ezra smiling fondly at you out of the corner of your eye.

Finally the day came for your collection. You had never taken a deeper breath than when the carpeting lander came into view, descending from the heavens as planned. After everything, you were utterly conditioned to expect the worst.

True to your word you hadn’t cried again since those first days in Ezra’s care, but as the ship roared into orbit a single tear rolled down your cheek. Ezra reached his hand across from his launch seat and clasped your fingers in his own. You were finally free. Thank Kevva.

Thank Ezra.

******************

You reached the freighter for the sling back, and panic set in as soon as your feet hit deck.

Ezra had been more than generous, gifting you with a share of the aurelac you’d harvested together. It couldn’t compare with what had been stolen from you but it was more than enough to replace your lost possessions, and get you anywhere in the galaxy you wanted to go.

You knew you should be full of joy, yet your heart was heavy, suddenly weighed with the reality of going back to life on your own. First and foremost you were a floater, you knew that in your bones. You went where the tides of life took you, forever chasing that next meal, the next adventure, eyes always upturned to the stars, searching for the one that would complete you. But for the first time in your life you didn’t know where you wanted to go next. Living on the green moon had changed you and now you felt anchorless; set adrift.

There was accommodation on the freighter for those who didn’t have their own pods, and feeling especially magnanimous, Ezra had splashed out on private rooms for you both. It was good to have your own space again but you found yourself missing the stuffy tent and the lulling rhythm of Ezra’s breath as you tried to get to sleep at night.

To your delight Ezra didn’t part ways with you immediately as you’d thought he might. Instead he chose to keep you company as you started the long journey back. He taught you to play an old Terran game called chess in the rec room, and read you chapters from the second hand book he’d bought in the freighter trading post as you sat and doodled on a pad.

Every day now with Ezra was bittersweet, for a while you contemplated distancing yourself from him, reasoning it would hurt less when you inevitably parted ways. But he always sought you out, and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him away, your heart fluttering exultantly at his attention.

Near the middle of the night cycle there was an insistent knocking at your door.

“Little one, wake up!”

“Ezra?” Your voice was still rough with sleep as you opened the door.

“Come on and hustle, mouse; there’s something you have to see.” He looked as giddy as you’d ever seen him.

“I’m in my nightclothes!”

“It doesn’t matter, no one will see you but me. Come on.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you from your room along the corridor to the nearest viewport. Just before you reached it he took a step behind, covering your eyes with his hands, fingers resting soft on your skin. He stepped you forward gingerly, careful of your bare feet on the rough metal floor and you were intensely aware of how close he was, the long line of him pressed into your back, surrounding you with the scent of sandalwood, cedar and warm clean skin.

“Look,” he breathed, and pulled away his hands.

Across the inky blackness of space there was a kaleidoscope of light, it looked like fire, tendrils in a spectrum of colours as yet unnamed, snaking across the heavens. It was the most magnificent thing you’d ever seen, and you’d never felt so small, nor the galaxy seemed so limitless.

“What is it? Do you know?” You whispered, the beauty before you demanding a hushed reverence.

“It’s a supernova remnant I believe.” His voice like velvet, Ezra rested his chin on your shoulder before he continued. “The last whispers of a dying star. Interstellar flotsam, just like us. Such are the things we are made of, little one.”

“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” You reached your fingers out to stroke against the glass, feeling for a moment as if all the stars were within your reach.

“Yes, the view is without compare.”

Breathless, you turned to him with a delighted smile and realised Ezra wasn’t looking out the viewport at all. Instead his deep chocolate gaze was focussed solely on you.

“Quite the most beguiling thing in all the galaxy,” he murmured as he brushed an errant strand of hair behind your ear. You watched him for a moment, admiring the way the echoes of starlight played across his face, highlighting the curve of his nose and the pout of his lower lip, so very close to your own.

His eyes dropped to your mouth and you could no more deny the pull you felt towards him than you could deny gravity.

You pressed your lips to his. Delicate, so tentative at first, and then he let out a gentle moan and you lost all reason. Turning in his arms you cleaved to him, pressing yourself as close as you could get and yet still wanting to be closer. His lips were soft and warm and his breath was sweet as he licked into your mouth and you realised you’d never wanted a man more.

He held your face in his hands and kissed you until you were dizzy. You felt a delicious heat pool in your belly as he stroked your tongue with his own. He kissed across your jaw, whiskers rasping against your cheek as he gently nipped your earlobe between his teeth. "Sweetheart?“ The endearment spoken into your skin was a loaded question, but one you were more than willing to answer.

“Yes Ezra.” You nodded against his lips. “Yes.”

And this time it was you pulling him, back along the corridor, back to your room. You tugged him in and paused for only a second to snick the door behind you before you were in his arms again.

He pushed you back against the wall, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away. Hands gripping your breasts, thumbs teasing through the soft cotton of your nightshirt. He broke away from your mouth to kiss down the sensitive skin of your throat, only stopping to bite at the curve of your neck, marking your skin with his desire.

He kissed your lips again and stroked your cheek, unexpectedly, heartbreakingly tender in his touch. Suddenly you could see with perfect clarity. Ezra was everything. Whatever shift had taken place in your heart on the green moon had aligned him as the centre of your universe, your guiding star. You wanted to pour yourself into him, you needed him to know.

Pushing on his shoulder you reversed your positions, pressing him against the bulkhead. You kissed him again, hoping he could feel your love with each press of your lips against his. You reached down and ran the hem of his sweater between your fingers, then lifted it over his head and tossed it over your shoulder.

He was beautiful, you thought, as he leant back, panting, clearly wrecked with need - but letting you take the lead for now. Kissing down his neck you licked across his collarbone and pressed your lips to the hollow of his throat. Spreading feverish kisses across the planes of his chest, you knelt to lick down the soft curve of his belly and then lower. Once you reached his waistband you glanced up, checking that this was still okay, that he wanted this from you. With you. Ezra’s eyes were dark and his breathing unsteady as he reached down with fumbling fingers to unfasten his pants.

You eased them over his hips and uncovered his cock, jutting hard and proud. Your eyes widened for a second as you took in his length and girth. The desire to make him feel good was overwhelming but you wanted to draw out the moment, make it last. You kissed his hip and licked across the crease where his leg met his body, careful not to touch where he wanted you most, as you pressed a kiss to his inner thigh. You did the same to the other side. When you reached his apex and stopped he let out a whine, a broken, longing sound and you knew he’d waited almost long enough. With the tip of your tongue you licked a stripe over his balls and up along his underside, stopping just before the sensitive ridge you knew was desperate for your touch. You ran your mouth back down again, taking time to kiss and suck gently at his balls before finally giving him what he wanted. Licking up his cock fully, warm and wet, swirling your tongue over the head of the shaft to taste the pre-come on his tip. He let out a moan so loud he may have woken half the ship but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Let them hear that you knew how to please your man.

His hands had been in his own hair, head thrown back, but now he gathered your locks in his hands, cradling your head gently. You started to work him in earnest then, licking your palms to work what wouldn’t fit in your mouth. You licked and sucked the tip of him, before taking him as deep as you could, breathing through your nose before pulling back. Using your free hand you pulled at his hip, encouraging him to move gently forward and take his pleasure. He started to thrust in earnest then, swearing and babbling, mumbling praise of your beauty and skill. You ran your hand down to cup his balls, stroking and feeling them tighten when with a curse and a grunt he spilled down your throat.

He slowly slid to his knees, legs now unsteady and clutched you, still kneeling, to his chest.

“What in Kevva’s name did I do to deserve you?” He panted, worshipping you with kisses across your cheeks and forehead. Kissing you deeply, he moaned at the taste of his seed on your tongue.

He kicked his boots off and toed his pants from round his ankles before drawing you gently to your feet. Pressing a kiss to your lips he tugged your nightshirt over your head, dropping it to the floor, and you slid your panties off your own hips, finally bare.

“You are exquisite,” he breathed. The honeyed words made your heart stutter in your chest. He took a long moment to savour the sight of you before him, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes, “I wanted you from the first moment I saw this pretty face,” his voice darkened with desire, “and now I mean to have you.”

You ached for him now, desperate for his touch and at last he pressed his body against yours. The feel of his skin against your own was dizzying and you let him push you back onto the bed as you clutched him close, tracing your fingers over every inch of him you could reach.

He kissed you again until you could barely remember your own name and then moved down, capturing the peak of your breast between his lips, licking and sucking until you were keening with pleasure, before turning and applying the same dedication and skill to the other.

He licked down your stomach and eased your legs apart, settling himself between them. You were panting now, clenching in anticipation of his touch. He paused, resting his chin on your curls and smirked up at you, clearly choosing to play you at your own game. You whined in desperation when he started kissing down the inside of your thighs to your knees. You needed him, but not _there_.

Finally, blessedly, he took mercy on you and suddenly his mouth was where you wanted it. He swiped his tongue through your folds, laving wide and wet again and again, until you were shuddering beneath him, hands clutched tight in his hair. He sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves at your peak, pinning you to the sheets with one arm as your hips tried to rise off the bed. As he slid one finger inside you, and then another, you lost all ability to think. Everything, everything was Ezra, his silky hair between your fingertips, his clever, clever tongue swirling, the pump and curl of his fingers pressing somewhere devastating inside you. You could feel your skin sparking at his touch and then suddenly you were ablaze, crying his name like a prayer as pleasure seared across your body.

He worked you through it, not slowing until your toes curled and even your fingers were tingling with satisfaction. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he started pressing a trail of wet kisses from your hip to your breasts as he journeyed languidly back up your body.

His blonde streak tufted out at a rakish angle as he smiled down at you, whiskers still damp from his labours. You pulled him down, relishing the weight of him on top of you, relinquishing all control as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He licked down your neck, nipping with his teeth and then kissing away the small hurt with his tongue. You could feel him, hot and heavy against your thigh and he ground against you seeking friction. It was all too much and yet not enough.

“Ezra, I want you to fuck me.” He pulled back a moment to gaze at you with those soulful eyes.

“Sweetheart, I want nothing more than to consummate this mutual hunger, but,” he brushed your nose with his tenderly, “I fear I won’t be gentle.”

“Don’t be.”

With your words it was like a new spark was lit. Ezra lifted himself up and in an impressive display of strength, flipped you so you were pressed face first into the mattress. You turned your head to the side to gasp a breath and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, kissing over your neck and shoulders as he pulled your hips up and back. No lover had ever manhandled you like this and you were startled to find it made your blood sing. Then you felt him, pressing at your entrance, and he moaned deeply as he rocked against you, sinking forward. The stretch was bliss.

He paused once he was fully seated within you, caging you with his arms. The sensation of being filled so completely was utterly overwhelming. His hands sought yours out, pulling them next to your head and he laced your fingers with his as he began to roll his hips into yours. Each stroke took you apart, and you were vaguely aware that you were keening his name. At the peak of each thrust he ground against you, pulling back and driving into you again and again until your universe narrowed to only the sound of his skin against yours and the feeling of him deep inside.

Suddenly he wrenched you up, clutching your back to his chest. Grunting as he thrust deeper and harder than before. One hand clutching your throat, he ran the other down to where you were joined, gathering your slick and drawing quick circles with his fingertips.

“Fuck, _fuck_ … you’re so, so perfect sweet girl. Your cunt is heaven,” he panted, breath hot in your ear.

It was all too much, his cock, his hands, his words… you shattered in his arms. He pistoned into you, losing his rhythm as you clamped down on him, milking his cock. He worked you through your pleasure before slamming into you with a final deep thrust, biting into the meat of your shoulder as he found his release.

Ezra collapsed on his side, taking you with him, his arms tight across your chest, huffing into your hair from his exertions. You whimpered as he pulled out, missing the connection instantly.

Coming back to himself Ezra found his words. “Don’t go.” It was a plea.

“Go? Where? ” You were confused.

He tucked his head and murmured into the skin of your shoulder, as if afraid to speak aloud. “Little one, in all of my travels, you’re the greatest treasure I ever found. I’m so sorry that we met the way we did, but I’m grateful too.” His voice shook as he added, “Go anywhere you want, but I beg you, let me go with you.”

You turned to face him, incredulous, eyes wide as you stroked your fingers across his furrowed brow. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your fingertips and your heart somersaulted in your chest. “Ezra, I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

He held you then, crushed skin to skin, overflowing with happiness. You’d spent your whole life searching for your star and now you’d finally found him.

******************

  


_Cassiopeia A - supernova remnant_

_  
_ **XVI**

I love the piece of earth you are,

because in all the planetary prairies

I do not have another star. You repeat

the multiplication of the universe.

Your wide eyes are the light I have

of the vanquished constellations,

your skin pulses like the roads

the meteor follows in the rain.

Of so much moon were your hips to me,

of all the sun your deep mouth and its delight,

of so much burning light like honey in the shade.

Your heart burnt by long red rays,

and this is how I follow your fire - kissing you,

small and planetary, dove and geography.

  
_Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets_

_  
_


End file.
